


Always Coming Home

by FayJay



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), 镇魂 | Guardian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - SciFi, M/M, Pon Farr, Star Trek Fusion Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2020-05-16 08:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19314211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FayJay/pseuds/FayJay
Summary: I'm filling my own damn prompt, because of course I am.Short Guardian/Star Trek fusion AU:Zhao Yunlan is a sassy devil-may care human star ship captain, and Shen Wei is a mysterious Vulcan envoy. Memories! Time travel! True love! Confusion! Evil twins! Possibly even pon farr, who the hell knows?It's the Black Cloaked Envoy and the SID team IN SPACE! Set your phasers to slash, kids!(I'm guessing there will be three or four chapters in total - don't know what rating we're looking at, tbh.)NOTE: ooooh shit, this was just supposed to be a quick vignettey thing with possibly kissing or indeed porn, but, uh - it seems to be developing a bit of a life of its own, so I am absolutely winging this in terms of plot, & I may find that I need to go back and edit a trifle to make plotty/worldbuildy things hang together. Please accept my apologies (and do feel free to point out errors of spelling/typos).





	1. Chapter 1

“Do NOT hit on the Vulcan envoy,” hisses Da Qing out of the side of his mouth a split second after the Vulcan envoy coalesces from a spangle of golden dust into a startlingly beautiful figure standing straight and solitary on the transporter dais, his face haloed by the hood of a long black cloak. 

Yunlan’s appreciative gaze darts automatically from Envoy Shen’s perfect eyebrows to the delicate mouth and slides all the way down to the demure tips of his toes before returning to the face once again, and Da Qing, watching him, groans. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Yunlan lies, sotto voce, striding forward with his shoulders squared and an expression of professional captainly welcome plastered onto his face. Granted Da Qing has known him since he was a scruffy first year cadet, and granted Zhao Yunlan may have gathered a bit of a reputation for himself at the Academy, being that his taste in partners is diverse and his enthusiasm for experimentation is boundless, but that was then, and this is now. He’s the Captain of the Empire-Class starship 事业, for fuck’s sakes, not a horny kid given to multi-species threesomes in the astro-nav labs. He is perfectly capable of keeping it in his pants, thank you very much. This is work. He’s a professional.

“Welcome aboard, Envoy Shen,” says Zhao Yunlan sunnily; such a pleasant change, when the random bigwigs they’re supposed to ferry around are young and ornamental. But the Envoy is standing stock still on the dais, staring at him like he’s speaking in tongues. Yunlan’s eyebrows fly up, and he pulls a quizzical face, then smiles again, uncertainly. He’s rather terrible at some aspects of diplomacy, he’s well aware, but he’s always been good at charming people when he wants to make an effort, and he certainly wants the beautiful envoy to _like_ him, even if he isn’t planning to cause any kind of scandal. He doesn’t know quite how to parse the thunderstruck expression on the Vulcan’s face - in fact he rather thinks that this is the first time he’s seen ANY expression on a Vulcan’s face, and that includes the face of the visiting ethics lecturer who had clearly hated his guts. It’s a stereotype, calling Vulcans logical or inscrutable, but it’s a stereotype *for a reason*. And right now Envoy Shen is staring at him with an expression of unguarded astonishment and - vulnerability? - and something intense and desperate that Zhao Yunlan has absolutely no idea what to do with. 

And he still hasn’t taken a step forward.

Zhao Yunlan hurries up the steps, trying to figure out how things have already gone wrong, and he’s somehow so flustered by the envoy’s burning glance that he reflexively sticks his hand out in greeting, for all the world as though the man were human.

There’s a tiny, frozen moment of awkwardness as the envoy’s gaze drops to his outstretched hand and Yunlan realises his mistake: Vulcans don’t shake hands. Famously. Day One of Interspecies Relations 101 at the Academy starts out with an analysis of the extremely messy historical results of this misunderstanding, and Yunlan can’t quite recall whether it’s cultural or actually physiological, but he DOES remember his lecturer emphasising that grabbing a Vulcan’s hand is roughly equivalent to sticking your tongue down their throat, and giving their butt cheek a lingering squeeze. Really not an appropriate polite formal greeting for a stranger. 

Shit. 

All of this rushes through his mind in a mortified split second after he’s reflexively offered his hand in greeting and seen Envoy Shen’s beautiful eyes widen, and he’s hastily pulling his hand away and trying to think of some way to convert the clumsy gesture into something smooth and culturally appropriate like the Vulcan Salute when the envoy steps - almost lunges - forward, and clasps his hand tightly. 

Da Qing makes a strangled noise behind them, but Zhao Yunlan ignores him. Zhao Yunlan ignores _everything_ except the warm, steely pressure of the envoy’s fingers wrapped around his own, and the suffused, wild-eyed look on the envoy’s face. This feels momentous in a way that Zhao Yunlan has no idea what to do with, and his uniform pants are starting to feel uncomfortably constricted right about now, and he hasn’t a clue how his morning went from business as usual to pulse-racing and breathless in the space of a few seconds. The envoy’s thumb slides against his own in a delicate, circling motion and his fingers squeeze tighter. Zhao Yunlan licks his lips, and is acutely conscious of the way that the envoy’s gaze darts down to follow the movement.

“I am Captain Zhao,” Zhao Yunlan says, his voice little ragged, because “Holy shit are we basically groping one another in the middle of the transporter room, what the FUCK is going on here?” just wouldn’t be very captain-like. He swallows, and glances down at their interlocked hands helplessly; the envoy’s hand is clutching him in a grip so hard he can feel his bones pressing together; he’s clutching him as if Zhao Yunlan is the only spar of driftwood in a dark and icy sea, and the envoy is a drowning man. “Um…” Yunlan adds. The envoy follows his gaze and an expression of embarrassment floods his face - and within thirty seconds he’s already seen more emotions on Envoy Shen’s face than on the faces of every Vulcan he has ever met added together. More emotions than any Vulcan is willing to admit they even experience.

The envoy lets go of Yunlan’s hand, looking like it almost pains him to do so.

“Envoy Shen is very kind to honour me with such a greeting,” Yunlan says, winging it desperately. “Truly he is a sophisticated diplomat, to adapt to human customs so generously, despite the discomfort.”

Envoy Shen swallows. His voice, when he speaks, has a little rasp to it that raises goosebumps on Zhao Yunan’s flesh. “I am...familiar with human rituals,” he says, looking down as if this is a shameful confession and then glancing up through his eyelashes as though it is a genuine hardship to look away from Zhao Yunlan’s face. 

“I see,” says Yunlan, who doesn’t see at all. He nods, like this is all perfectly fine. “Please allow me to introduce Mr Da, my First Officer.” 

Da Qing steps forward and spreads his furry paw into a Caitian approximation of the Vulcan Salute, as if he’s modelling what Yunlan SHOULD have done in the first place. 

“Welcome aboard, sir,” says Da Qing, pretending he isn’t a sassy asshole. “Live Long And Prosper.”

The Envoy returns the greeting.

Zhao Yunlan’s hand is still tingling. 

“Please come this way, Envoy Shen,” says Da Qing, gesturing towards the doors and darting a glance at Yunlan that very clearly telegraphs ‘get it together for fuck’s sake’. Yunlan mentally smacks himself, and then glances back at Envoy Shen. 

The envoy’s dark eyes snag his gaze, and the Vulcan’s calm mask cracks again, just a little, his lips twitching from their cool line into a tiny half-hidden smile that is, by Vulcan standards, basically grinning like an idiot. His cheeks are flushing a delicate shade, like shaved ice drizzled with pandan liquor, and somehow, bafflingly, he's still looking at Zhao Yunlan as if he's the most extraordinary, unexpected and perfect thing in the universe. 

Oh, good GRIEF, Zhao Yunlan is in so much trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

Shen Wei doesn’t know whether to be grateful or disappointed when the stateroom door hisses shut behind him, some ten minutes later, sealing the Captain and his First Officer safely outside and leaving him alone once more. He draws in one long, carefully controlled breath, and then sinks down to the floor, his black cloak billowing and puddling around him as he settles into a fitting pose for meditation right there, without any further preparation. 

He should, perhaps, begin by making his reports and checking the itinerary, but at this moment his state of mind is - not what it should be. So instead he lets himself simply breathe and be in the moment, focusing on the faint purr of white noise that is the ship’s heartbeat, as bland and comforting as the sound of his own breath. 

If he were truly Vulcan...but this is a familiar tendril of thought, and Shen Wei nips it in the bud as patiently as he can with the smoothness that comes from practice. He will not be ashamed of his mother or her people. He will not waste time regretting things that cannot be changed. He is himself, for good or ill, and so he can only strive to be the best version of himself that it is within his capacity to be. Perhaps another Vulcan could have borne this fresh revelation, and those of the past month, a little better, but Shen Wei’s own father is ample proof that even full-blooded Vulcans are not always creatures of calm logic and discipline: it had not been the logical choice, after all, to marry a human.

So. 

...Kunlun.

Shen Wei allows himself to face the chaos of hope and terror and honey-sweet hopeless yearning entangled with the name, and draws another shaking breath before putting a shape to his emotions: he imagines them as a dark and turbulent ocean with half-glimpsed creatures roiling in its depths. There is something comforting about the familiar rituals of meditation in themselves, and for all the fierceness of the waves, Shen Wei floats among them peacefully and finds a small seed of stillness somewhere inside him that he slowly, patiently, coaxes into growing. Around him, the towering waves gradually lessen, and the dark clouds begin to brighten, until at last the sea is flat and still, its dark blue depths glinting peacefully. Tranquil. Halcyon. He can control his emotions. 

After a long, still moment focusing on nothing but the image of the peaceful ocean, Shen Wei’s hand creeps, almost of its own volition, up towards the pendant that hangs around his neck.

* * * 

“Who had Vulcan?” asks Da Qing, as they step onto the bridge. Zhao Yunlan’s back straightens a little. Chu Shu Zhi raises his hand without looking up from his station; Zhu Hong hisses in disgust.

“Seriously?” says Lin Jing. “He only had, what, ten minutes? Fifteen?”

“I call bullshit,” says Zhu Hong. “No way Captain Zhao has had time to sleep with the Vulcan envoy. He’s only just arrived.”

“It doesn’t take long,” says Lin Jing, and Da Qing and Zhu Hong both burst out laughing.

“You’re not supposed to admit to that, Lin Jing,” says the Caitlian, shaking his head. “This is why you’re single, my friend.”

“What doesn’t take long?” asks Xiao Guo, looking around in obvious confusion, and Zhao Yunlan sighs. 

“Not in front of the child,” says Shu Zhi, craning back over his shoulder and glaring at the others. 

“I’m not a child!”

“Have you really been running a betting pool on my sex life?” asks Yunlan. He feels tired, all of a sudden. It’s not that he’s offended, exactly - he _is_ both enthusiastic and flexible, and he’s certainly never had any complaints. But it’s one thing to be a notorious and gleeful slut as a student; it’s another to be viewed as some kind of creepy lothario by one’s subordinates. For fuck’s sakes, he’s not been intimate with anything more exciting than his own right hand since they had shore leave six months ago, nor does he expect to be for the foreseeable future, because there is basically nobody aboard he _could_ look at that way: chain of command, and all that. Yunlan won’t have sex with anyone, however seeming-willing, who imagines that they might be duty bound to follow the Captain’s orders - or who hopes to win some kind of benefit for themselves by sleeping with him. And yet his team - or most of them, at least - remember his exploits from the Academy, and apparently that kind of reputation, once won, is hard to shake.

This is what comes, he thinks sorrowfully, of being put in charge of people who have seen you making a drunken fool of yourself at three in the morning, with somebody’s underwear on your head, and somebody else’s tentacles sliding into your pants. He really should have planned for the future a little better, when making these kind of life choices. 

“Sorry, Captain,” says Da Qing, who very blatantly is not at all sorry.

“I did not sleep with the Vulcan envoy. I shall not _be_ sleeping with the Vulcan envoy. You are all filthy-minded, disrespectful, _terrible_ people, and I will report to Admiral Guo that you are corrupting Chang Cheng.”

“They aren’t,” Chang Cheng pipes up, loyal little ball of sunshine that he is. “Although I really wouldn’t mind if they tried.”

“Stop bothering the Captain,” snaps Shu Zhi.

“I’m a Betazoid, Lao Chu,” Chang Cheng says, for the hundredth time. “You really don’t need to protect my sensibilities. My people are very broad minded.”

“You’re a Betazoid _cadet_ who should be working on that five space problem Lin Jing set you,” says Shu Zhi, sternly, and Chang Cheng’s shoulders sag a little. 

“Yes, sir.”

Zhu Hong makes a rude noise. “I think the Damn Caitian is exaggerating again,” she says. “Must be.”

“I’m telling you, Shu Zhi can start celebrating his winnings. Our Captain is irresistible even to Vulcans. You would not believe…”

“Mr Da,” snaps Zhao Yunlan, with a harshness that brings the Caitian up short. “I will thank you not to speak disrespectfully about the envoy on my ship.”

There is a startled, frosty pause. 

Yunlan sighs. “I’ll be in my Ready Room,” he says, into the silence. “You have the bridge, Mr Da.”


	3. Chapter 3

“So you like him, then,” says Da Qing, half an hour later, breezing into the Ready Room like he owns the place. Yunlan’s team have no bloody discipline, and the Damn Caitian is the worst of the lot. 

“I’m not interested in discussing this,” says Yunlan, scrabbling too slowly to hide his view screen. Da Qing looks pointedly down at the photograph of Envoy Shen nestled amidst columns of cross referenced notes, and Yunlan sighs. 

“Oh come _on_ , Cap,” says Da Qing, rolling his eyes. “You’ve got to admit, that was really fucking weird, when he arrived. I mean - I’ve never seen a handsy Vulcan. I didn’t know they _made_ handsy Vulcans. He’s the most unVulcan Vulcan I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“I think it’s because he’s only half Vulcan,” says Yunlan, his voice hesitant for once. He isn’t sure that he feels good about having done all this stalkery research, now. “So - I think you’re wrong about, you know. It being weird. I know he looks as Vulcan as any of them, but according to this his mother is fully human. So...from a human, that was just a handshake. I know it looked a bit, ah - scandalous, if you’re thinking of him as a Vulcan. But it wasn’t, it was just a handshake - and obviously he’s not going to be very good at them, because it’s not something his people - his _father’s_ people - normally do, so he’s probably not had much practice. That’s why it seemed a bit - awkward. No big deal. He wasn’t feeling me up, or, uh, being felt up - and it’s just not professional to go gossiping about our guests like this. We should be better than this, Qing.”

Da Qing looks slightly chastened. “Half Human? Man, his dad’s a bit of a goer then, eh? I didn’t think Vulcans were into - you know. Interspecies stuff.”

Yunlan does indeed know, because Yunlan is most definitely into interspecies stuff. Anything that can express enthusiastic consent and is of legal age is fair game, as far as Yunlan is concerned. As far as he _had been_ concerned, at least, in his party days at the Academy. But he’d never slept with a Vulcan, because Vulcans just didn’t do that kind of thing.

Except apparently sometimes they did - and the results, one had to agree, were jaw-droppingly lovely.

“I found out something else,” he says, because no good is going to come from dwelling upon thoughts of just how lovely the Vulcan envoy is. “Here’s something you don’t hear every day: I’m pretty sure he’s a time traveller.”

Da Qing gapes in a very satisfactory fashion. 

“Or at least - remember the stories about that time-travelling Vulcan who came tearing through the void a few weeks ago? The one nobody’s supposed to know about? Hush hush, secrets of the universe, ancient guy from the future imparting the secret of faster-than-light travel and how to stop giant super novas from destroying the galaxy? That ancient guy, from the future? That’s Shen Wei.”

There’s a considering pause.

“He doesn’t _look_ ancient,” said Da Qing, dubiously.

“No, well - I think this must be the real one, the present day one, and it’s his future self who has _cracked time travel_ , or at least one-way time travel, and come back to tell us about it all. Can you imagine? Meeting your future self? Or your past self? What would you tell yourself?”

“Do not eat the dried fish at Little Lantern Warung,” says Da Qing immediately. 

Zhao Yunlan rolls his eyes. 

“Anyway, surely you can’t do that?" Qing adds. "Because it will mess with the time stream, surely, if you meet your past self?”

“...yeah, I really have no idea, to be honest, but the internal memos that nobody was supposed to have seen certainly seemed to imply that the guy from the future was getting on just fine here in the past, so I guess if he screwed up the timeline we just don’t know about it?”

“Is that supposed to be comforting?”

“...honestly, I have no idea," Yunlan admits. "Ask Lin Jing if you want to talk Science." 

"Fair."

Da Qing steals one of Yunlan's imported lollipops from the jar on his desk, and Yunlan nimbly steals it back, and offers him the bag of fish snacks instead. 

"So what would you tell yourself, if you could go back and meet yourself as a kid?” Da Qing asks.

Zhao Yunlan frowns, trying to imagine that and balking a little. And how, he wants very much to know, does any of this connect with the expressions on Envoy Shen’s face when he saw Zhao Yunlan this morning? What does the envoy know about him?

“No pearls of wisdom?” says Da Qing.

“Do not have group sex on the Starfleet Academy quadrangle,” Yunlan says at last, winking and grinning a deflecting, shit-eating grin. “There will be chafing, and the grass stains are a real bugger to get out.”

* * * 

It hasn’t been an easy month, but Shen Wei had believed that he had reached a kind of balance. Learning that he was - that he would be - that he _was_ , in a very real and personal sense, directly responsible for the deaths of a whole planet full of people a lifetime away in the future, people who had trusted him, had been a difficult revelation to bear. Logically this failure should have been mitigated by the news that, despite failing the Romulans, that far-future Lao Shen had successfully saved the whole galaxy from a devastating supernova - but it was not. Shen Wei knew that this strange future knowledge was far more blessing than curse - for, armed with this awareness, could he not ensure that this tragedy never came to pass? The other Shen, alien and familiar, _he_ had failed the Romulans of his own universe, but the real Shen Wei could correct that mistake, and ensure those lives were never lost. He could use this gift of stolen knowledge to make a brighter future. 

It should have made him feel stronger, feel blessed - but it did not. It was a terrible weight of guilt upon his soul, a dread that he had not known to fear.

One might argue that it was unkind of Lao Shen to burden him with this gift of fore-knowledge - that pushing Shen Wei to accept a mindmeld that would shatter his whole worldview and piece it back together out of prismatic, bloody shards was, in a way, almost abusive. But Shen Wei understands perfectly his other-self’s reasoning - and, more than that, he understands the emotions that were the true motivation beneath the neat logic, and he cannot bring himself to condemn the man. 

Seeing his own face aged by so many decades, wise and wizened, a fragile paper mask inscribed with an unreadable calligraphy of soft dark lines, had been shocking. But _feeling_ the years and decades of life unfurl within his own soul within the mind-meld, knowing the sense-memory of ghost kisses and intangible wounds, the echo of laughter and screams, the phantom tang of blood and honeyed tea dancing dreamlike over his tongue had been nothing short of revelatory. He still isn’t sure that they should have done it, but it happened, and now he can only move forward, harbouring memories of a world that doesn’t yet exist, and now will not. Oh, many of the memories meshed seamlessly with his own: their childhood on Vulcan, arid desert days and clean cold desert nights; the constant struggle to be true to both his Human and his Vulcan forebears; the fierce determination to protect his twin brother from the pain of cruel words and deeds; the shameful, clutching, horribly un-Vulcan love that burned within him for their Human mother, Man Da, despite all his best efforts to suppress it. All of that was familiar. But there were odd differences here and there: instead of the tall, thin T’Pay, his father’s priestess friend in that other reality was a woman named T’Pau. Instead of peaches, his mother’s favourite, longed-for Earth fruit was cherries. Small things, and unimportant; taken as a whole his life in that other universe was so close to this lived reality that it was reasonable to suppose that their directions would have been similar, if not identical.

Until this extraordinary point: the arrival of Lao Shen from the future, cast back through time when a brilliant maneuver to save the galaxy almost, _almost_ went according to plan. That other Shen Wei has no such memories, and so the course that his life followed is not the path now unfolding before Shen Wei. That man is him and yet not him - even his name is different: Shen Wei, using the first tone, a lofty name. A gift, from the love of his life - and _that_ , oh, _that_ is perhaps the hardest part to bear. Shen Wei thought that he was content in his own isolation; that he was self sufficient, a good and proper Vulcan too logical to care whether his fellow Vulcans despised his mixed heritage. He was - or at least he strove to be - a model follower of Surak: logical, disciplined, restrained, stoic, courageous in the face of danger but modest and unassuming. _“I do not seek the fulfilment of desires; I have chosen to end the desires themselves.”_ So spoke Surak, and until Lao Shen burst into his life, this had been a touchstone and a comfort for Shen Wei. 

No longer. Now he must endure the knowledge - visceral, not simply intellectual, knowledge written into his skin by a thousand whorled fingerprints and the ghosts of countless kisses - that in another version of the universe, the version where Man Da loved sour cherries best of all, and his childhood room was painted blue, he, Shen Wei, had a Human T’hy’la. A best beloved. A soul mate. A man of dauntless courage, decency and passion who hid the brightness of his soul beneath a veneer of careless charm and irreverence, but who was, at his core, truly extraordinary. Kunlun. 

A man who, like Man Da’s love of cherries, happens not to exist in this universe. The only Kunlun in the Federation’s data banks was a human warlord who had already died fighting the Romulans; died without ever meeting Shen Wei.

...It _was_ wrong, really, for Lao Shen to initiate the mindmeld with his younger self. Too cruel, too overwhelming. Shen Wei still doesn’t know how to deal with holding the memories of that whole unlived life within the fragile box of his skull, but he understands. He does understand, and forgive, because he knows that Lao Shen, for all his calm Vulcan exterior, is a man with a soul of tattered shreds and patches, torn away from all he knows and loves, castaway in time and space, and desperate to find a true connection, an anchor to the here-and-now. 

So now Shen Wei knows it all; knows about Ye Zhun’s terrible as-yet-uncommitted crimes, his allegiance with the Romulans; he knows of Man Da’s eventual death, and he aches with mourning her even as he knows that she yet lives and breathes in this universe; he knows about his father’s remarriage, and the pain that had caused him. And he knows about Kunlun, the human captain he would live and die for - and who would live and die for him, and see him back from beyond the grip of death itself. Kunlun, the man who would become a legend by Shen Wei’s side; Kunlun, who reprogrammed the Kobayashi Maru simulator rather than accept defeat; Kunlun, Kunlun, Kunlun, the bright star around whom Shen Wei orbited throughout all the long decades of his adult life: friend and lover and brother and t’hy’la, until, as short-lived Humans must, he too eventually died.

No, it has not been easy to live these past weeks with the memory of smiles and bare skin, kisses sticky with sugar; with the ghost of embraces, and with long decades of the rock-solid certainty that whatever happened, however terrible the universe might seem, Kunlun would always, always have his back, always come for him, always be there - until at last old age had defeated that valiant heart, and Kunlun had found a Kobayashi Maru that could not be cheated. 

Lao Shen is still adrift without his lover, and now Shen Wei has been laced into their story at one remove, will he or nil he; for nearly a month now he has been mourning a man, a _beloved_ , he has never even met, and living like one who has a hole torn through his chest and yet breathes.

And now, this. 

Kunlun. Zhao Yunlan. 

A little change, just a little lick of sound, as insignificant as a different taste for fruit. A baby’s name changed by some odd parental whim decades ago. Just a different name. But it means everything. 

It means hope.


	4. Chapter 4

Shen Wei _knows _a moment before the door chimes.__

__He knows, and he is aware that he should be logical about this situation: he must not impose himself again upon this man who is not - _not_ \- the Kunlun of his borrowed dreams...but nevertheless when Captain Zhao Yunlan’s bright voice fills the air in the close little cabin Shen Wei shivers like someone has just trailed ghostly fingertips over the nape of his neck, and against his better judgment he tells the Captain that he may enter._ _

__In person, Captain Zhao Yunlan is more devastatingly lovely than in Shen Wei’s fevered imaginings: this is Kunlun in his youth, clear-eyed and cocky, brow unlined, spirit unbowed. Shen Wei’s eyes dart everywhere, hungry and shameless, lingering on the shockingly lush curve of the captain’s lower lip, the sharp points of the cupid’s bow, before lifting at last to meet the man’s twinkling gaze. Shen Wei is flustered in a way that he cannot recall feeling anywhere except in this man’s presence, in one life or the other._ _

__“Captain,” he says, trying to will the excess warmth out of his cheeks. But he knows the taste of this mouth, he knows the indentation of the dimples above the man’s buttocks and the sharp press of the man’s hipbones cupped in his hands as Shen Wei manhandles him in their bed; he knows how he likes his tea, and how he uses jokes as a shield, and the sound that he makes when he comes. Shen Wei has never learned the art of lying convincingly; he does not know how to look at this Captain Zhao Yunlan without wearing his heart openly in his eyes._ _

__Zhao Yunlan takes a half-step back, his mobile mouth curving even as his eyes widen, and Shen Wei _knows_ he should have refused to let the man into his cabin. This was a terrible idea. His pulse is unsteady, and he cannot regulate his emotions or his breathing. He might as well be human._ _

__“Envoy Shen,” says Zhao Yunlan cautiously into the heated silence, dear and familiar and _not_ the same man Shen Wei’s other self lived a whole lifetime alongside. “I wanted to come and check on you,” he says. “If you’ll pardon the intrusion? It’s just - it’s been two whole days, and you haven’t left your stateroom once. Normally our guests do like to make use of the Enterprise’s facilities - the gym, say, or the canteen...but of course I understand that the Ambassador is very busy.” He glances at the books and pads piled neatly on the table. “If you’re happier alone…?”_ _

__Shen Wei draws an audible breath. Happier alone. That’s the crux of it right there, isn’t it? But he cannot impose upon this man, this stranger, just because Shen Wei’s stupid half-human heart has been given a lifetime of memories of someone else’s love. He swallows._ _

__“Happiness is irrelevant,” he says, in a voice that almost does not shake. Kunlun - _no_ , Zhao Yunlan - treats that statement exactly as Shen Wei might have expected, with arching brows and an almost clownish expression of incredulity, but he pauses before blurting out his gut reaction; they are strangers in this universe, and he will not simply speak his mind as freely as Lao Shen’s t’hy’la would have done. _ _

__“Envoy Shen, I know that Vulcans pride themselves on their logic and control,” says Zhao Yunlan after a moment. “And perhaps I misspoke by bringing happiness into the equation.” He bites his lip, his instincts obviously battling with his diplomatic training. “But - happiness is not _irrelevant_ , Envoy Shen,” he says, plaintively, his eyes looking Shen Wei up and down in an unmistakably appreciative fashion that somehow manages to be warm rather than leering. _ _

__Shen Wei meets the captain’s gaze and holds it for far too long to be polite. He feels like his skin is on fire; he feels like he is made of the finest, most brittle of glass, ready to shatter at the barest whisper of a touch. He feels...aha, he _feels_ , in ways he doesn’t know how to handle._ _

__In very specific ways, he abruptly realises, that he has felt before, in a different life._ _

__Oh no._ _

__It was difficult for the Elders to know precisely when Pon Farr might be expected to effect someone of mixed heritage, since Shen Wei and his brother are such rarities among Vulcans; in his other life it had not happened so early. But then, in that other life his mind had not been summarily violated by a sudden onslaught of whole-body memories of his t’hy’la’s passionate embraces, and of the ardent completion of his cycle. This is not that other life._ _

__Shen Wei stares at Captain Zhao Yunlan in stricken silence. He has a mission to accomplish. He cannot afford to let his biology compromise him. Ye Zun is out there, still only at the start of the path that will eventually lead to genocide. Still salvageable. Still his twin._ _

__Zhao Yunlan is still looking at him, has been looking right into his eyes for far too long now, in fact. Shen Wei tries to recall what they had been saying._ _

__“I do not need to be happy,” he says, stoutly. The look of pity on Zhao Yunlan’s face almost undoes him, but he stands straight and tall with his chin raised, daring this precious, wretched, meddlesome man to contradict him._ _

__“The Envoy knows his own needs far better than I could ever hope to do,” says Zhao Yunlan, and any other guest would have had no suspicion of the effort Shen Wei _knows_ it has taken him to suppress the impulse to turn this bland statement into a pointed double entendre by a vocal inflection or a wink. He is trying very hard to remain professional, Shen Wei thinks, and he cannot understand the rush of unwanted tenderness this sends surging through him; this Not-Kunlun is still so very young. Shen Wei’s heart is pounding. He wants to - oh, so many _many_ things, and none of them logical, but the fingers of his right hand are clenched tight into a fist, because the first of those many things, the thing he wants quite desperately, viscerally, to do, is simply to lace his hand once more with Zhao Yunlan’s and feel the gentle thrum of human blood beneath his skin._ _

__Shen Wei holds himself still and refuses to give in to biology. Even if this _is_ Pon Farr triggered inconveniently soon, he knows for a fact that he is capable of holding out against his impulses for many days yet. _ _

__“This Envoy’s needs are amply satisfied,” he says stiffly, ignoring the bloody crescents his fingernails are digging into his palm. Zhao Yunlan’s brows _do_ quirk at this statement - he just can’t help himself, clearly, whatever his name might be from one universe to the next._ _

__“Well,” he says, his voice dipping down into something more like a purr. “If you’re quite _quite_ sure that there are no needs of yours left to be satisfied,” Zhao Yunlan says, pulling a lollipop out of his uniform pocket in a move so familiar it makes Shen Wei’s heart prickle with helpless tenderness, “...perhaps the Envoy might be willing to satisfy this captain instead?”_ _

__Shen Wei blinks, watching him unwrap the lollipop and stuff the crinkle of bright wrapper back into his pocket. Kunlun’s kisses had so often tasted of sugar that Shen Wei had developed an unfortunately Pavlovian response to the taste of sweet things, and had been forced to limit them very strictly._ _

__“This Envoy will perhaps say that this captain is speaking out of turn,” continues Zhao Yunlan, sliding the lollipop into his mouth and licking it wet an sticky with an expression of simple pleasure that wrings a tiny, strangled sound from Shen Wei which he hastily tries to disguise as a cough. The annoying thing is that he is almost sure that Zhao Yunlan isn’t even making a conscious effort to be seductive - this is simply his standard operating protocol._ _

__“Speak,” says Shen Wei, when his coughing fit is over._ _

__Zhao Yunlan sucks his lollipop meditatively, regarding Shen Wei with an expression that is mostly serious, even as his tongue reflexively does quite outrageous things to the wet candy in his mouth._ _

__“There are rumours,” he says at last, with a trace of apology in his tone, “of a time traveller.”_ _

__Shen Wei starts back._ _

__“Half human, half Vulcan. You, in fact, Envoy Shen. But - not you. A much older you, returned from a darker future to turn us onto a better path.”_ _

__“Gossip,” exclaims Shen Wei, feeling strangely bouyant, like a scrap of wood caught up in the current and tumbled over a waterfall, powerless to change its course. “Improper security measures. This is an outrage!”_ _

__“All of that,” agrees Zhao Yunlan. “But I’m rather a good hacker, and when I really feel motivated to pull a system apart, not many can stand up against my curiosity.” He looks almost ashamed for a moment, then tilts his chin up, meeting Shen Wei’s eyes with a challenging gleam. “And I was motivated.” He pulls the lollipop out of his mouth, taps his lips and when he licks the sweet this time the gesture is quite clearly calculated. Shen Wei’s breath hisses through his teeth. Zhao Yunlan smiles, and pulls the lollipop back out once more. “You _looked_ at me, you see,” he says, by way of explanation._ _

__“It is customary for Vulcans to make use of their ocular…” begins Shen Wei, prickly and skittish and stiff-necked as a wet cat, and Zhao Yunlan waves the lollipop in the air._ _

__“You _looked_ at me,” he says again, gently, and Shen Wei cannot pretend he does not understand. His tongue stills. “You _touched_ me,” Zhao Yunlan adds, wonderingly, and the lines of his face go suddenly wide and vulnerable, almost childlike. Shen Wei wants this man with a greed and a selfishness that he has never directed at any person or thing before in this life. He wants to bring that look of startled delight onto this face in many and varied ways. He wants it more than he has ever wanted anything before. “You know you did,” says Zhao Yunlan, looking at him almost shyly._ _

__“I - I should not have taken advantage in such a…” says Shen Wei, haltingly._ _

__“I’m glad,” interrupts Zhao Yunlan._ _

__“Oh.”_ _

__“I wish you’d do it again.”_ _

__“...”_ _

__“And I”m sorry, because it was that - that touch - that piqued my curiosity. For a Vulcan to do such a thing...well, I needed to understand, because I didn’t want to cause a terrible diplomatic incident by mistaking courtesy for...for something else, just through wishful thinking.” He looks down at his feet for a moment, clearly ashamed of himself. “So I dug through layers of communication that I should not technically, officially, in my capacity as a responsible Starfleet captain, be able to access.” He pulls a face. “Not very professional. But efficient. And so now I know that your future self, an Envoy Shen from another timeline, appeared suddenly in our universe. And I may be wrong, because pulling this together was rather like playing three dimensional chess in the dark with a drunken chimpanzee, but I think - I think that you met him. This other Envoy Shen. And I think he shared his memories with you directly, somehow? Through some Vulcan rite, or…”_ _

__“The mind meld,” says Shen Wei, breathlessly. Zhao Yunlan’s eyes light up._ _

__“Yes! I knew it! So - so I was wondering, you see. Since I’ve never met the Envoy before in my life, and yet his reaction to me in the Transporter Room was…” Zhao Yunlan huffs a laugh, shrugging helplessly. “It was as if the Envoy knew me, as though we were - as though we _had been_...close?” He is watching Shen Wei intently, feeling his way along one word at a time. “So I have to ask the Envoy: in that other universe, that distant tomorrow your future self returned from - were we ever close?”_ _

__“Yes,” breathes Shen Wei, taking a helpless step closer, his gaze darting from Zhao Yunlan’s eyes to his glossy lips and back again._ _

__Zhao Yunlan swallows. “Friends?”_ _

__“Yes,” says Shen Wei, stepping closer still, fingers flexing. Zhao Yunlan’s hand is dancing through the air, all energy and expression, and Shen Wei wants to capture it, wants to hold it close like a nervous bird, all brittle bones and _life_._ _

__“...more than friends?” Yunlan’s eyes follow the direction of Shen Wei’s gaze and his hand stills. He slowly, very very slowly, reaches towards Shen Wei in the human gesture of greeting. He looks torn between nervousness and desire; he is afraid, Shen Wei knows, that he may be overstepping the bounds and giving offense, and for all his cheerful lasciviousness Kunlun would be horrified at the thought of making someone feel uncomfortable in this manner._ _

__“Yes,” says Shen Wei, swallowing, and his hand moves of its own accord to close around Shen Wei’s hand. Sensation flows through him._ _

__Shen Wei’s knees almost buckle, and he sways where he stands, waves of familiar intensity washing through him and finding the echo of remembered touches resonating in the very cells of him._ _

__He cannot let this man go._ _

__“Much more than friends,” says Shen Wei hoarsely._ _

__Zhao Yunlan’s eyes are huge, and he looks so impossibly _young_ , so fresh and sweet and innocent compared to the man Shen Wei recalls. So precious. _ _

__Shen Wei wants to ruin him. It is a hot, shameful, profoundly uncivilized impulse, a drum beat in his veins that announces unambiguously that, whatever he may want one way or another, in _this_ universe he will have to deal with Pon Farr in the very near future. _ _

__“Wow,” breathes Zhao Yunlan, the veneer of worldliness falling away like a mask and an expression of startled wonder on his face once more._ _

__Shen Wei steps right up into him, barely a breath away, plucks the stick of the lollipop from Zhao Yunlan’s startled wet mouth with his left hand, and kisses him on his sugar-slick lips._ _

__Zhao Yunlan makes a muffled sound of astonishment and then melts against him, fingers flexing sweet and helpless in Shen Wei’s grasp. Shen Wei has never done this before in this life, but in the other - oh, in the _other_..._ _

__He doesn’t plan to crowd Zhao Yunlan up against the wall of the cabin, body to body, mouth locked against mouth, legs slotted together, hands mapping all the new-familiar contours of muscles and bones as though (re)learning this topography offers up the meaning of life. The urgent, enthusiastic sounds that the captain makes up against him and the gleeful stutter of his hips are so impossibly familiar, and his candied tongue is so sweet, that it isn’t until Shen Wei hears himself gasping “Kunlun!” that both of them freeze and sanity reasserts itself._ _

__He _does not_ know this man. Not truly. Not _this_ man._ _

__Shen Wei steps hastily back, looking at the rumpled human spread out before him with a surge of horrified guilt._ _

__“I beg your pardon,” he says, his voice hoarse._ _

__Zhao Yunlan blinks at him dazedly; he is a magnificent mess of bitten lips and disordered hair, his eyes glazed and his mouth glossy, and it is taking everything Shen Wei has not to fall upon him once more. After a long moment Zhao Yunlan visibly settles the mantle of his captaincy back upon his shoulders and straightens his spine._ _

__“Kunlun,” he repeats thoughtfully, licking his lips. “Is that...is he…?”_ _

__“You,” says Shen Wei, helplessly. “The other you, in that other universe. The you that I - that is, that _he_ , Lao Shen, knew. Loved. Married.”_ _

__“Oh. _Oh!_ ” says Zhao Yunlan, pupils going so wide his eyes look black. “ _Married_?”_ _

__Shen Wei pulls both of his hands behind his back and tells himself very firmly that he must not touch, no matter how desperately tempting this man might be. “We - they - were assigned to the same ship. Lao Shen was Kunlun’s First Officer. Together, the two of them…” his voice trails off. How does one begin to explain the legend of Kunlun? “They were extraordinary. You were extraordinary. Renowned throughout the galaxy. They did many great deeds, and helped shape the Federation in countless ways. They made a difference.”_ _

__“Married,” Zhao Yunlan whispers. “But I...but...I mean, why…?”_ _

__“I beg your pardon,” says Shen Wei, trying not to feel like that simple syllable has just stabbed him. He takes a step back, and then another, and curses his own folly. “I did not mean to presume that you would - it was an unconscionable liberty. It is not long since these memories were implanted, and it is difficult for me yet to separate them from reality. If you wish to lodge a complaint with the Vul…”_ _

__“Yeah, no, that’s definitely not going to happen,” interrupts Zhao Yunlan, rolling his eyes and hurriedly closing the distance that has just grown between them. “Like I’m going to complain that somehow an alternative universe impossibly heroic version of me temporarily fooled…” he waves both hands vaguely at Shen Wei in an unhelpfully human attempt to wordlessly communicate something “...fooled _all of this_ into giving me the time of day? I’m not certifiable, Envoy Shen.”_ _

__Shen Wei gives himself a moment to figure this out. “You - are not angry?” he says._ _

__“I am wondering how in this or any universe I got to be such a lucky dog,” says Zhao Yunlan with feeling. “And I am hoping very very much that you might want to do that again. Or, you know - anything. Anything at all.” He blinks, his face suddenly shy. “ _Married?_ ” he says, shaking his head, and gives a shaky laugh. “I mean - don’t get me wrong, I’m not proposing, Envoy Shen. But, uh. I am very much on board with, uh. Whatever.” He swallows, looking Shen Wei up and down again in a way that speaks volumes. “Really. Whatever. Anything.” A look of belated consternation crosses his features. “Or nothing, if you want to pretend this never happened! That’s fine too!” His brows lower, as a suddenly thoughtful expression slides onto his features. “I suppose...it can’t be all that pleasant, having these memories of someone else’s life. I don’t want to...I…” He swallows. “Look, I definitely don’t want to lodge a complaint, is what I’m saying, okay?”_ _

__Shen Wei nods, stiffly. “That is - most generous,” he says, clenching his hands into fists. He closes his eyes. “I am afraid - I am afraid that my reactions around you are not to be entirely trusted.”_ _

__“Oh,” says Zhao Yunlan, in a small voice. “Is that a bad thing?”_ _

__“It is...an inconvenient thing,” says Shen Wei, slowly. “My mission is one of great urgency, and it is beyond selfish for me to let it fall by the wayside while I…” he licks his lips. “We have only just _met_ ,” he breathes, his voice plaintive in a way that is shamefully unVulcan. “But I want…”_ _

__He opens his eyes and looks at Zhao Yunlan, letting the full measure of his wanting shine in his gaze, and Zhao Yunlan’s eyes go wide. He visibly blushes, and then frowns._ _

__“So - I should go,” he says. “I’m not helping. I’m sabotaging your mission.”_ _

__It may be too late, in truth, but Shen Wei believes he can last at least as long as his other self was able to endure before succumbing at last to the fires of Pon Farr; he must find Ye Zun, and take the first steps to convincing him away from his current path._ _

__He does not know how to explain Pon Farr to this innocent human. It is something so excruciatingly private, and the prospect of somehow _blackmailing_ this not!Kunlun into being intimate with him appalls Shen Wei to the very core._ _

__“You should go,” he agrees, dry mouthed, hating the lost look that crosses Zhao Yunlan’s face for a moment, before he pulls on his customary confident grin._ _

__“I guess I’m just too irresistible in any universe,” he says, and Shen Wei nods._ _

__“Indeed, captain,” he says. “You are very - distracting.”_ _

__“You are not the first person to accuse me of this,” acknowledges Zhao Yunlan ruefully. He bites his lip. “Well. Thank you for trusting me with the truth.”_ _

__“You found it yourself,” Shen Wei says, thinking back to the Kobayashi Maru. Kunlun had always been too good with programming; people tended to overlook that, when they sang his praises as a military strategist._ _

__“And you didn’t deny it.” Zhao Yunlan’s gaze keeps shying away from Shen Wei’s and then returning helplessly, as if magnetised. “If - if there is anything else I can do to help, Envoy Shen, please don’t hesitate to ask. And don’t…” he shrugs. “Don’t beat yourself up about this? It’s got to be a bit of a headfuck, having someone else’s memories camped out in your brain. Decades and decades of them. I don’t mind.” He swallows. “I hope - well. I hope that we might get the chance to become friends. Or more than friends. Whatever you want.”_ _

__Shen Wei does not trust himself to speak. It is taking everything in him not to reach out and grab the man in front of him._ _

__“Well. Okay. I’ll see myself out, then,” says Zhao Yunlan, dragging himself to the door with palpable reluctance. “I’m sorry, if I made things more difficult for you. That truly was not my intention.”_ _

__“You were not at fault,” says Shen Wei, stiffly. “I thank you for your concern. I think it is best if I remain here in my quarters for the remainder of the journey.”_ _

__“Right. Yes,” says Zhao Yunlan, in a way that clearly communicates a burning desire to say ‘No, wrong’. He is looking back into the room with his eyes full of unspoken things as the door closes, his mouth opening to utter something Shen Wei tries to be relieved he does not hear._ _

__“Kunlun,” he whispers to himself, staring at the door, and then sinks down to the floor and readies himself for meditation._ _

__Whatever else he may get right or wrong in this life, he absolutely must not allow Ye Zun to fall into darkness. And that means he must control this unsought early onset of this most mortifying and unhelpful aspect of his Vulcan heritage, and focus on the mission at hand._ _


End file.
